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Lotis was only slightly less depressing in the daylight. Verve followed Ivet through the village’s “streets,” which were an odd mixture of floating boardwalks and dirt paths that wound through the homes and businesses of the locals. The surrounding swamp still looked murky and unpleasant, even with shafts of sunlight pouring through the cypress trees, but Verve didn’t mind so long as the sun was out.
“Does it flood often?” Verve asked Ivet as they crossed over a wooden boardwalk that connected Ivet’s home to an open space at the village’s center.
“Some parts do during the storm season,” Ivet replied. “But the floating boardwalks help to keep the worst of the water at bay. Hadiya’s working on a way to pump out any buildings that might flood.”
An image of the horrible, scaly creature made Verve shudder. “I suppose you’re taking your lives in your hands—ah, hand—by living in a swamp.”
Ivet chuckled. “Perhaps. But our location keeps the undesirables away. Well, it used to.”
Alem trailed behind Verve and Ivet, silent and judgmental. Verve ignored him and kept her face passive. They passed a small home built right on the water, on top of what Verve imagined was a floating foundation of some sort. An older fellow sat outside, fingers deftly working a loom, blending together vivid shades of crimson, orange, and saffron. He glanced up at the sound of footsteps on the dock and smiled in their direction while his milky eyes stared straight ahead.
“Ivet, I was wondering when you’d be by,” the fellow said by way of greeting. Given the gray in his neat beard, he was well into his fifties. “I hear Alem trudging along with you. But who’s the third? Not that stranger I heard about last night?”
Ivet paused, and Verve realized she’d not told them her name. She had a few pseudonyms she’d used in the past, but keeping track of lie after lie always gave her a headache.
“I’m Verve.” She bowed, then immediately wished she hadn’t, for surely she looked like a moron, bowing in greeting to a blind man.
He smiled. “The One is life. Welcome, Verve. I’m Dannel. What brings you to Lotis?”
Another Sufani? Verve’s heart tightened and she couldn’t find her voice for a few seconds.
Ivet replied, “Verve’s a mercenary. She’s going to help us with our little mage problem.”
Alem scoffed. Dannel’s fingers worked his loom as he said, “Are you a mage, Verve?”
“No, ser.” Verve stared at his hands, deftly weaving the strands of fabric in a perfect medley of colors. The emerging pattern reminded her of sunsets over the Silverwood plains; too deliberate to be placed by luck. “Are you?”
“Only a little,” Dannel replied easily.
Verve’s fingers twitched for her daggers, but she forced herself to be still. Dannel seemed harmless enough, but an instinctive flash of warning flared at the back of her mind. Thank the One—or rather, Atal—for Danya’s training in concealing her expressions. Otherwise, Verve’s eyes would have bulged out of her head. Two mages, living among regular folks? And if there were two, there were probably more. How many and what their abilities were remained to be seen.
Heedless of her internal struggle, Dannel continued. “Lost my sight when I lost a fight with Legion, oh, a decade ago, now. But the One god blesses me still, for each color sings its own song, and my fingers know every tune. But my feet still itch something fierce,” he added with a sigh. “Sometimes I miss life on the move.”
The mention of Legion made Verve’s heart clutch. To her side, she caught Alem watching her intently.
“I’m sorry,” Verve said to Dannel, for she could think of no other response.
Dannel shrugged. “Don’t be. I’m better off than most.” He toyed with a strand of orange thread. “You have a lot of experience killing my kind, I take it?”
“Too much, some might say,” Verve replied. “Not nearly enough, according to others. But I will do my best to help you now.” She hesitated, then glanced at Ivet. Now seemed like an appropriate time to fish for more information. “That shiftling last night was looking for a Damaris, right? Are they truly nearby? I’ve heard tales…”
Ivet tensed, but Alem replied immediately. “Marea Damaris isn’t here now, but sometimes passes through.”
Dannel laughed aloud. “I’d not wait around to meet them. If you see Damaris, run the other direction, unless you want to end up like a lightning-fried egg.”
Verve made herself chuckle, too, but studied Alem surreptitiously. He gnawed his lip and shoved his hands in his coat pocket, clearly uncomfortable with the mention of Damaris. Verve filed that information away for later as Ivet bid Dannel goodbye and led Verve through Lotis.
“It’s best if you see the more recent places the renegade mages attacked,” Ivet was saying as they passed by another few buildings. Many sat dark and silent, in varying states of damage and disrepair.
“Lots of empty buildings,” Verve said. “Have many folks left recently?”
“No one lived here at all until about five years ago,” Ivet replied. “That’s when I stumbled on this abandoned village and realized its potential. Managed to convince a few others to join me. From there, we’ve grown a bit. Slowly, you know, because of all the warring mages in the area. Travel can be difficult, sometimes. But slow progress is still progress.”
The scent of burning wood strengthened as they drew closer to the edge of the village.
The barn had probably once been in the best shape of any building in Lotis before mages had gotten a hold of it. Half of the barn stood sturdy and proud, the sides smooth and even, the roof secure, the double doors held closed with a lock. Which was pointless now, as the other half was little more than charred rubble. The barn’s owner, who seemed to be in their late forties, wrestled with some giant wooden contraption, trying to pull it beneath the non-destroyed part of the roof.
